


If I Was Your Boyfriend, I'd Never Let You Go

by estrella30



Category: One Direction
Genre: Cliche, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-11
Updated: 2012-09-11
Packaged: 2017-11-14 01:47:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/510012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/estrella30/pseuds/estrella30
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Harry, you essentially just told my sister that we’re <i>dating</i>.”</p><p>“Pretty much,” Harry says, and grins. “Champagne?”</p><p> </p><p>in other words, pretending to be boyfriends fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	If I Was Your Boyfriend, I'd Never Let You Go

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to hanelisar for the beta and britpick! any remaining mistakes are my own! written for harriet_vane because she loves liam and loves pretend boyfriend fic so I combined the two for her.
> 
> disclaimer #1 - I have been informed that this family reunion is unlike any family reunion to exist in all of England, ever. it's possible a reunion like this has never existed in the United States either? I can't be sure. It works for the story, though, so I'd appreciate it if you'd just give me this one.
> 
> disclaimer #2 - I am a very pro-1d-girlfriend kind of person, and hated to make Liam kind of sad and single in the beginning of this. in real life I hope Liam and Danielle get married and have a billion gorgeous, talented, singing and dancing babies. just not in this story :D

The emails all come in a row, so instead of being a relaxing few minutes with his laptop before an interview, it becomes a steady barrage of people reminding Liam of the same terrible thing.

_From: mum --- can’t wait to see you next week!_

_From: British Airways --- Ticket Confirmation: First Class; Seat 7B, 7C_

_From: The Mount Hotel & Conference Centre --- Thank you for reserving your room at The Mount Hotel for the dates of 7 July – 10 July! We here at The Mount Hotel…_

Liam blinks at the screen, then fumbles trying to get the calendar button in the corner of his computer to open, because that can’t possibly be right, can it? Next week? He remembers when he mum had told him the date a while back but that was _months_ ago. Surely it can’t be coming up so soon. 

The calendar on his computer verifies the date, though. As does his phone, and his ipad, and his e-reader, and his pocket date book. So. 

“Ugh.” Liam sighs and throws himself back into the desk chair and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Next _week_.”

The door opens just as he says that, and he barely glances up to find Harry wandering into his room. Liam loves Harry, he does, but what he doesn’t need right now is an audience. 

“Next week what?” Harry asks, then folds himself over Liam’s back and kisses the side of his neck. Liam flaps his hands and tries to shove him off but that just makes Harry cling tighter, squeezing his arms around Liam’s chest until Liam gives up. 

“Next week when we’re on break I need to fly home for a few days.”

“Oh, yeah? Well that’s not so terrible.” Harry’s finally untangled himself from Liam’s torso and is busy digging into Liam’s travel bag, most likely looking for snacks. “Yuck,” he says, holding up a pack of whole grains and dried berries, but he opens the bag anyway and dumps half of it into his mouth. “Tastes like rocks.”

“You’re more than welcome to buy your own snacks if mine don’t suit you, Harry,” Liam snaps, and then bites his bottom lip hard. He can’t believe he was just that rude. Harry stops chewing and stares at Liam and Liam thinks about how he just yelled at Harry over _whole grains_ and honestly, he should probably work on whatever issues he’s having about his trip home before they have to leave for the day.

“Sorry,” Liam says after a moment. Harry shrugs and tosses the rest of the pack into his mouth. 

“It’s fine, Li. I don’t care,” Harry mumbles around a mouthful of food and Liam feels better. He manages to smile, even, because he knows Harry and he’s pretty sure Harry _doesn’t_ care. Liam’s heard all of them say some horrible things to each other in the past, so Liam complaining about Harry stealing snacks is probably fairly low on the list. 

“But you might want to work out what you’re so cross about before we have to leave later, yeah? Is it just because you’ve got to go home over break? I thought you liked going and seeing your family, and—“ Harry stops then. He catches himself before he goes any further and Liam feels his cheeks heat. He drops his head and wonders when it’s going to stop feeling like everyone has to watch every single thing that comes out of their mouth around him. As if just mentioning Dani’s name will send Liam straight into a breakdown. 

“It’s fine, Harry,” Liam says. When he looks up Harry looks gutted. He comes over and half sits, half leans on Liam in the chair and hugs him again. “I mean, that’s a part of it, sure. This will be the first time I’ve gone home since Dani and I split which would be crap enough, but I also forgot we have this…” he motions at the computer screen with its horrible list of emails and reminders and sighs. 

“There’s a big family reunion next week, away in a hotel with all of my relatives and I just.” Liam feels Harry running his fingers through the back of Liam’s hair and for once he’s thankful none of his bandmates seem to know how to keep their hands to themselves. He leans back into Harry’s touch and closes his eyes a little. “I think I’ve just forgotten what it’s like to go to these things alone, is all.”

“Hmm.” Harry scratches the back of Liam’s head then pulls away. “That’s definitely shit, mate, I’ll give you that.”

Harry goes quiet then, his eyes narrowed and watching Liam carefully. Liam pushes the chair back and stands up. He closes his laptop and promises he’ll think about the emails and his trip home and everything when he gets back later. 

“Right then,” Liam says, forcing himself to sound cheerful. He claps his hands together, and Harry crosses his arms over his chest. “Time for us to head out, yeah?” Liam says. 

Harry rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah, but if you don’t feel like going today—“

“Of course I’m going today,” Liam says firmly. “This is my job, Harry, and the fact that I have to go home next week to see my family isn’t going to change that.” And the thing is, he’s really fine. Sure, he’d forgotten about the date and getting the emails surprised him a bit, but it’s his family and Liam always loves getting to spend time with them. It’ll be a break that he desperately needs and he’ll get to see his sisters and cousins and it’ll be great. It really will. 

When he smiles at Harry again he can feel it’s more genuine, and Harry smiles back, dimple poking hard into his cheek. “Come on, we’re going to be late,” Liam says, and Harry follows him out, walking close enough to him that their shoulders bump the entire way down the hall. 

*

The next few days pass in a blur of interviews and meetings and photo-shoots, and Liam manages to get himself excited for his trip home by the time the day gets there. Everyone else is headed back to see their families as well and they all chat about it in the lift, talking about car services and flights and when they need to be heading out for the day. 

When the lift stops on their floor they hug in a huge pile, arms wrapping around each other and kissing whoever’s head is closest. Liam squeezes Zayn’s shoulder and pats Niall’s head and punches Louis on the arm and messes with Harry’s hair and then he’s headed to his room to finish packing before his car gets there. His flight is the latest one to leave, so he thinks he’ll finish packing and then maybe he’ll spend some time before he goes doing a twitcam or following some fans on twitter. 

He’s in his room less than ten minutes when he hears the beep of a keycard being swiped and his door is opening. Liam’s confused because he’s sure it’s one of the lads, but it’s a bit strange seeing as how he just said goodbye and saw them all off already. 

Then Harry walks in, flashes Liam a cheeky grin and drops a huge rucksack at his feet, and Liam is even more confused. 

“Err. Hello, again,” Liam says. 

Harry beams and waves. “Hi.”

“Are you. Uhm.” Liam feels his forehead wrinkle because he really can’t figure out what exactly Harry is _doing_ there. “Are you waiting here for your car?”

Harry rocks back on his heels. “Yep,” he says, and that’s it; nothing else. 

“Oh. All right,” Liam says. He feels a bit like he’s talking to a toddler, or a mental patient. “And when is it coming?” he asks slowly. 

“Not sure,” Harry says. He glances at the watch on his wrist and then grins up at Liam from under his fringe. “What time is it coming, Li?”

Liam huffs. He has things to do, really, and while he’s always happy to see Harry he still has no idea why he’s there. “Harry,” he says patiently, “What are you talking about? Are getting picked up from here or—“

“I’m coming with you,” Harry says simply, and then throws his arms out to the side. “So whatever time your car is coming, I’m hopping in.”

Liam stares at him. His head is spinning. He can hear the words Harry is saying but they don’t make any sense. “Harry, what do you mean you’re coming with me?”

“Exactly what I said.” Harry grabs a bottle of water from Liam’s mini-fridge and flops back onto the bed, sitting with his back against Liam’s pillows. His t-shirt rides up at the waist and about three inches of Harry’s boxers stick out from under his jeans. “I didn’t really have any plans for the break and you didn’t want to go home by yourself so I just figured…” he trails off and shrugs one shoulder. “I’ll keep you company on your trip, yeah?”

“Harry that’s…that’s—“

“Crazy, right?” Harry says, and wiggles his eyebrows. “Admit it, it’s fantastic. We’ll go see all your relatives and you can introduce me as your way sexier bandmate and drive all your cousins wild with envy and we’ll sing karaoke together and win every competition there is. There will be karaoke competitions, right?” he asks, suddenly serious. “Because I don’t know if I’m going to go with you if you tell me there aren’t.”

Liam waits a beat. Sometimes he has no idea how this has turned into his life, but one thing he’s learned since meeting the lads and being in the band is that sometimes the most important thing is to just go with the flow; to say _yes_ to things every once in a while. Liam never used to be very good at that. He’s getting better, though, and that’s all that matters. 

He takes a deep breath and says, “There are karaoke competitions, yes. But I have to tell you something, Harry, and it’s very important.”

Harry blinks. His eyes are wide and green and Liam feels something loosen up in his chest at the thought of Harry going with him. Harry choosing to spend his break with Liam because he knows it would make it easier for him; that it would make Liam happy. He stops worrying about Harry not getting to go home on his own, or the logistics of explaining to everyone why he’s there with Liam instead of Dani, and lets himself feel excited about going home for the first time since he saw all the emails over a week ago. 

“I’ve won my family competition every year for the past nine years straight,” Liam says. He’s trying for serious but he can feel the edges of his mouth twitching into a smile. “And I’m not going to let you come with me if you’re going to take the piss and make me break my streak., you got it?”

For a split second Harry had looked worried, but now he just grins and gets up to meet Liam halfway across the room, holding his hand out in a fist to bump against Liam’s. “We’re going to _own_ that competition,” Harry says, and he hugs Liam tightly and jumps on his back when the phone buzzes telling them their car is there, laughing happily against Liam’s ear. 

*

The first thing Harry does when they get to the hotel room is drop his bag on the floor. Then he kicks off his trainers and socks, takes off his t-shirt and tosses it in the direction of the bed, and unbuttons his jeans. 

The first thing Liam does is look around, remembers he booked the room under the _romance package suite_ and wants to die. 

There is champagne chilling in a bucket beside the door, dozens of red roses in glass vases and chocolate covered berries in crystal dishes on the dressing tables, flower petals strewn all around the room and tossed on the red satin duvet, and a heart shaped chocolate sitting on each of the two pillows in the huge, king-size bed.

“Aww, Liam,” Harry says as he looks around. He tilts his head and bats his eyelashes dramatically. “You shouldn’t have.”

Liam sinks onto the edge of the bed and drops his face into his hands. “Oh, god,” he mumbles. “I completely forgot I ordered all this stuff.”

Harry is quiet for a second, and then he sits down next to Liam and squeezes the nape of his neck gently. “You all right?”

Liam takes a deep breath. He’s fine. He’s going to have to be. “I am, yeah,” he says, and raises his head to try and smile. “Or, I will be, at least.” Harry looks like he doesn’t believe him but he lets it go. “So. I can call the front desk and see if we can get a cot rolled up here or something,” he starts to say, but Harry punches him hard on the arm. 

“Don’t be a twat. We’ve shared a bed smaller than this a hundred times.” 

Liam sighs because Harry’s right. He leans his head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry slides his arm around Liam’s waist, curling his fingers gently against Liam’s side, and it’s nice. Comfortable, for a few minutes at least. 

Naturally, that’s when Ruth walks in. 

“Liam!” she shouts. She bounds into the room excitedly, and Liam realizes that in all of his confusion over the champagne and flowers he forgot to _close the sodding door_. Now here he and Harry are - Harry half-naked, of course - sitting together on the bed in a room decorated like the scene from an adult film. “You’re here! I was so excited when mum said you called and said you’d arrived and—oh. _Oh_!” She pulls to a dead stop at the foot of the bed and flushes a deep red from her cheeks up to her hairline and down her throat. “Er. Hi, Harry! How are you!”

“Hey, Ruth, I’m great,” Harry says and stands up to kiss her cheek. Ruth looks like she doesn’t know where to place her hands on Harry’s near naked body and Liam empathizes. He’s usually at a loss for that himself. “How have you been?”

“Good. Good. I just. Uhm,” she blinks then, and looks back and forth between Liam and Harry for a moment, before breaking out into a huge smile. “I’m just so happy for you guys!” she finally says, beaming. “Oh, Liam, I was so worried after…” she turns even pinker which Liam didn’t think was possible. “Well, after, you know, _her_ ,” she whispers, “But you and Harry are—Well, it’s just _great_ , really! I’m so happy you two have found each other and—“

And whoa, whoa, wait. _Found each other_? 

“Ruth, hold on,” Liam says, and stands up. He holds his hands up and tries to wave or signal or _something_ to get her to stop talking. “I’m not quite sure what you’re thinking, but—“

“But please don’t say anything yet,” Harry quickly interrupts, sliding into Liam’s space and pressing himself against Liam’s side. His arm curls possessively around Liam’s waist, and his fingers slide under the hem of Liam’s shirt. “It would mean so much to us. We kind of wanted to keep things under wraps until we see everyone later, yeah?” Harry whispers. 

“Harry, that’s not—“ Liam starts, but Harry elbows Liam hard in the ribs and Liam stops talking.  
Ruth is grinning already, miming locking her mouth and tossing away the key, and Harry is smiling back at her, the two of them looking all the world like they’re sharing the world’s best secret. Liam would love if one of them would fill him in, but they just stand there smiling stupidly at each other until Ruth’s mobile buzzes and she bounces out of the room with a kiss to each of their cheeks and a promise to see them both at supper. 

Liam waits until the door closes behind her and then he spins, pointing a finger at Harry’s face. “What the _hell_ has gotten into you?” Liam demands. 

Harry shrugs and crosses the room to the champagne bucket. He fiddles with the bottle for a minute and then the cork pops and it’s foaming up and out of the neck of the bottle, running down the sides and dripping onto the floor. “What?” he asks, and blinks. Liam wants to hit him.

“Harry, you essentially just told my sister that we’re _dating_.”

“Pretty much,” Harry says, and grins. “Champagne?”

Liam accepts the glass Harry’s offering and takes a small sip before placing it on the table next to the bed. He’s got a huge headache already. _Huge_. The trip has barely started and he’s already booked him and Harry in a sex room and gotten bamboozeled into a relationship with him. What even is this holiday?

“You do realize she’s out there telling everyone right now, correct?” Liam asks. He pinches the bridge of his nose and squeezes his eyes shut. “Ruth couldn’t keep a secret if you paid her a million pounds. We’re probably going to spend the next three days doing nothing but answering questions about our _relationship_ and _dating_ and all sorts of horrible things like that.”

“Hey!” Harry says, and he finally sounds cross. “I’ll have you know dating me isn’t horrible! You’d be bloody lucky to date me. And anyway, I know all that, that’s why I did it.” He sounds smug, almost. Liam wonders how someone only half-dressed, drinking expensive champagne in nothing but a pair of ill-fitting trousers can manage to have such a tone, but Harry does. 

Liam shakes his head. “I’m confused. That’s why you did what?”

“Think about it, Liam,” Harry says. He puts his drink down and rolls his eyes. “It’s either you spend three days answering everyone’s shit questions about Danielle and the breakup and _how are you doing, Liam, really_ , or you spend three days with your hot new boyfriend, snogging in corners and having fun.”

Liam’s head is spinning. The problem is that somewhere, buried deep in all the craziness, Harry actually has a point. It would definitely make things easier if he had a date for the next few days and had to answer short, happy questions about that, instead of _not_ having a date and having to answer long, sad, boring questions about being single. And Harry is fun and funny and Liam does have a great time when they’re together. Plus, well, Harry’s fit. Liam’s not _blind_. 

“Oh my god,” Liam moans. He realizes he’s actually going to do this. He’s actually going to go along with Harry’s hare-brained scheme. He should have his head examined. “All right. Ok! You’re right.”

“Ha!” Harry shouts and points. “I’m brilliant.”

“You’re really not,” Liam says around a sigh. “If we’re going to do this, though, we need some kind of ground rules.”

“Ugh,” Harry moans. “I knew you’d find a way to Liam it all up and make it boring.”

Liam ignores him. He’s good at that by now. “Number one, you can’t make up terribly ridiculous stories about me.” Harry looks about to protest, but Liam barrels on. “Harry, if we want people to believe this we have to say the same things about us, and it won’t work if you tell everyone you had to kidnap me in Las Vegas to keep me from running off and joining the trapeze artists or something.”

Harry opens his mouth, then closes it. “Fine,” he says. “I’ll agree to that.”

“Number two, no touching below the waist.”

Harry shakes his head vehemently. “No way. That won’t even work, Liam. I touch you below the waist when we’re not dating.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Fine. _Fine_!” His life is entirely ridiculous. “No touching below the waist when my mum is around.”

Harry sighs dramatically. “Okaaaaaaaaay, I guess.”

“And number three,” Liam tries to sound stern. “No snogging.”

Harry laughs right in his face.

“I’m not even going to agree with that,” he says. “I snog you a hundred times a day as it is, Li, I’m not going to stop now.”

“Yes, but—“

“No,” Harry says, firmly. “You can have your number one and two but three is mine. Tough. Two out of three, take it or leave it.” He holds out his hand, pinky extended, and Liam groans. 

“We’re actually doing this as a pinky promise?”

“We are. Now do it,” Harry says, and Liam slides their fingers together. 

Harry’s pinky curls tight around his, and he slips the rest of his fingers around Liam’s and pulls him in. “This is going to be fun,” he says, eyes twinkling, and kisses Liam hard on the cheek. 

*

They both take fast showers before dinner, and while Harry is blow drying his hair Liam goes through the reunion schedule for the next three days. He’s sat on the edge of the bed making small marks next to each event he wants to make sure they attend, and barely notices when Harry emerges from the bathroom. 

“Well?” Harry says. He waits until Liam looks up and then spins in a circle. “How incredibly fit is your boyfriend?” 

Liam feels his face break out in a wide grin, because Harry _does_ look rather handsome in a bright blue shirt and trousers that actually fit with no sign of boxers sticking out for all the world to see. His hair is combed for once and he’s got a sport jacket slung over his shoulder. Liam leans back on his elbows and wolf whistles. 

“My, my, my, Harry Styles,” Liam says and pretends to leer. “You do clean up nice.”

“Not so bad yourself,” Harry says as he takes in Liam’s black shirt and dark jeans. He stands there a beat too long, though, just looking, and Liam feels his face start to pink up and he looks away and fiddles with the schedule. He silently reminds himself that Harry is his boyfriend for the next few days, and he’ll need to stop blushing like an awkward virgin whenever Harry stares at him for too long. He’s hoping it’s not as hard to do as he thinks it might be. 

“Err, so anyway,” Liam says, effectively changing the subject. “I was taking a look at the schedule, and—“

“Wait, the what?” Harry’s sat next to him on the bed now, so close their thighs are touching. Liam is having a little bit of trouble breathing because cologne? Why is Harry wearing _aftershave_? This is quite possibly going to be the longest three days of Liam’s life. 

“The, uhm. The event itinerary for the next few days,” Liam answers, and shoves the papers into Harry’s hands. “My cousin Sheila puts it together every year. There are always way too many things to do but I like to try and go to as many as I can while I’m here. The karaoke contest for sure, and definitely the three-legged race. And the fancy dress party on the last night, that’s always a lot of fun.”

“Your family does this _every year_?” Harry asks, incredulously. “With like, a whole full schedule and everything?” Liam nods, and Harry adds, “Wow. My family barely manages a tea on holiday mornings together before everyone’s running off to different places.” Harry’s reading the schedule intently, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth, and Liam reaches around and rests his hand on Harry’s lower back. “So, okay,” Harry says, glancing a look up at Liam from the corner of his eye. “Three legged race, karaoke, and what’s that about a fancy dress party?”

“The last night,” Liam explains. “Sometimes it’s a theme but sometimes not. I actually didn’t get a chance to see if there was one for this year’s when you came out before. I mean, we don’t have to go if you’d rather not,” Liam is quick to add, but Harry is flipping through the pages quickly and when he comes to the end his face breaks out in a huge grin. 

“It’s a nautical theme,” Harry says, face beaming. “Liam, can we go somewhere and get costumes tomorrow?”

Liam flails a little. He isn’t sure what he expected when he thought about Harry coming with him to the reunion, but he knows unflagging enthusiasm to do everything possible never entered his mind. “Well, sure,” Liam hedges, “I mean, if you’re sure you want to go to the—“

“Liam,” Harry huffs, and hits him in the head with the rolled up papers. “Ask me if I’m sure again and I’m going to hit you in the dick.”

Liam manages not to ask Harry if he’s sure about anything again for the rest of the night. 

*  
Dinner is fine for at least the first half of the night. 

Harry’s met a fair amount of Liam’s family at one event or another over the past few years so it’s not as if he doesn’t know anyone. Liam thinks it’s good Harry is with him instead of one of the others. Niall would just embarrass himself, bowing down in front of the buffet table or something, and Zayn is still mostly shy around groups of people he doesn’t know. Louis would…Liam shudders. He honestly can’t even think about trying to keep Louis under control at a family event with every one of his relatives for three entire days. It makes Liam tired just thinking about it. 

But Harry is friendly and funny and charming. He talks football with Liam’s uncles and flirts with Liam’s aunts and cousins. Even his nan is a little pink in the cheeks when Harry sits next to her with a plate of biscuits and leans in close to hear what she has to say. 

Liam doesn’t realize how long he’s standing by the table doing nothing but staring at Harry until he’s cornered by not one but _both_ of his sisters. 

“Erm, hello,” Liam says. He tries to scoot past them but Ruth stands in his way and Nicola shoves him into a seat by his shoulder. He might be bigger than them but he’s still the youngest and he never feels it more than when they’re both staring him down, tapping their feet and demanding answers about something. “Are you both having fun?” Liam asks, innocently.

“Save it,” Nicola says, and sits down to Liam’s right side. “We want details.”

“Yeah,” Ruth echoes. She narrows her eyes and points a finger at Liam’s face. “Details!”

“I. Uhm. I’m not really sure what kind of details you’re looking for,” Liam hedges. “I’ve got the itinerary up in my room if you’re curious about the reunion details, or—“

“Oh my _god_ ,” Nicola sighs, and smacks him lightly on the side of the head. “Don’t make me twist your ear until you tell us, Liam.”

“She’ll do it,” Ruth warns. “Remember that one Christmas when you didn’t tell her—“

“All right! Fine!” Liam throws his hands in the air. “What do you want to know?”

It’s like they have a list, hidden up in their brains or something, because the questions start coming at him faster than he can process.

_When did you and Harry start dating?_

_How did it happen?_

_Does the rest of the band know?_

_Does mom know?_

_What does he look like when he takes off his kit and--_

And that’s when Liam puts his foot down. 

“ _Ruth!_ ” he snaps. She at least has the decency to blush. “I’m not going to tell you what Harry—“

“What about Harry?” Harry asks, sliding up and interrupting. Ruth and Nicola blush a little and finally shut up and Liam’s glad for it. He slumps back into his seat and rubs a hand over his eyes. Harry nudges him and Liam slides over, making room for him on the seat. “What did I miss?”

“Oh, nothing,” Nicola says. She waves her hand in the air. “We were just chatting with Liam a bit about—“

“When did you guys start _dating_?” Ruth asks. Liam wants to die. He’s always known his sister to be fairly outspoken, but this is ridiculous. “I mean, did you talk about it first? Or just, I don’t know, go out and start snogging one night?”

“Ruth!” Liam and Nicola shout at once. Harry just laughs, though, and curls his arm around Liam’s shoulder, dragging him in close. 

“I don’t know, really,” Harry says. He tilts his head so it’s resting against Liam’s and his fingers are stroking Liam’s sleeve gently. “I guess I’d always sort of fancied Liam, to be honest. Then him and Dani split and, I don’t know. I just thought I’d take a chance.” He shrugs and the movement presses against Liam’s shoulder. His chest feels tight and hot and he wonders again how this is happening to him; how is this actually his life.

He risks a glance at Harry, and feels his face heat when he sees Harry watching him already, his eyes crinkled in a smile. Liam manages a smile back and Harry’s arm around him tightens and he pulls Liam up from his seat. “We really better get going now, though,” Harry says. Liam notices his sisters both nodding dumbly at Harry and rolls his eyes. Even his sisters fancy his new-semi-kind-of-fake-but-no-one-knows-it boyfriend. “Big day tomorrow, I hear. The three legged race, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Nicola says. Ruth just waves. “See you guys in the morning.”

Harry grabs Liam and pulls him into a quick kiss, before tangling their fingers together and leading him from the room. Liam can swear he can hear both of his sisters sigh dramatically as they walk away. 

*

The three-legged race is pretty much a disaster. 

Liam realizes he should have known. If he’d have taken a second to actually think about the logistics of running a three-legged race with Harry he would have discovered very early on that it was going to end badly. 

But they both wake up early and all through showers and getting dressed and heading down to the park Liam’s good feelings stay with him. Harry is chipper and cheery, hair pulled back tight in a beanie and his fiercest (for him) tracksuit bottoms and a t-shirt, and Liam is ready. He has on his lucky trainers and his most comfortable running gear and this is going to be great. He and Harry are going to _own_ this. 

Except for the fact that Liam’s cousin Mark who Liam’s run with every year since the reunions have started is apparently a little cross that Liam’s thrown him over to race with Harry. 

And the fact that it had rained overnight and the field in the park has turned to mud; thick and mushy and pulling everyone’s trainers down into the wet.

And, of course, the fact that Liam and Harry really have _no_ coordination at all between the two of them. 

None. Zero. Zilch. 

Liam should have realized it – or Harry should have – one of them, honestly, but neither of them did and now they’re tied together, lurching around like morons in the mud.

“Harry!” Liam shouts, as Harry takes off the minute Liam’s uncle Gregg shouts _go!_ but Harry doesn’t listen. Mark turns to Liam and rolls his eyes a little, gives him a smirk as his trainers kick mud up and onto Liam’s trousers, and he and their other cousin Dave take off at a fair sprint. 

Harry barely makes it a few steps before he sees that Liam’s not joining him and he turns and wraps his hand around Liam’s arm and gives him a tug. “Come on, Li,” he says and pulls. “Move.”

“We need to have a game plan, Harry,” Liam tries to explain. “We need to discuss which way we’re stepping and—“

“Fucking bloody hell, Liam, we should have discussed that before,” Harry shouts. He pulls Liam again and Liam starts to run a little. “It’s a race, now come on.”

And yes, Harry’s right. “Ok, middle feet together,” he coaches, “Then outside feet. Got it?”

Harry nods. Liam can see his forehead all crunched up in concentration. “Middle, outside, middle, outside.” 

They do well for a few steps, and Liam thinks, _all right, maybe we can do this! Just because we can’t dance or spin or walk together as a band doesn’t mean that Harry and I can’t put up a fair showing in a three-legged race! We’re doing great, actually!_ and then he looks at Harry and Harry looks back and he grins, so wide and open and bright that Liam just stops. He forgets to run, forgets that they’re in a race. 

It makes Harry pulls up short, and then he’s turning, trying to see what’s got Liam standing there while all the other racers pass around them. Harry wobbles a little on his feet and Liam reaches out to try and hold him up then realizes at the last minute the grave mistake he’s made. 

“Oh no,” Liam says, as Harry’s fingers twist around his hand and pull him down with him into the mud. “Harry—“

“Come on, Liam,” Harry shouts around a laugh. “You didn’t think I was going to let you off that easy right?

Liam’s covered in mud. It’s soaking through his joggers and shirt, smeared up his arms and at the back of his neck. Harry looks no better; worse even because he’s almost wrestling with Liam in the mud, trying to untie their legs so he can roll around with fistfuls of mud, smushing it against Liam’s back and head and arse. Liam splutters, then scoops up a handful and shoves it under Harry’s beanie while Harry flails and kicks at him and laughs. 

Liam’s never had so much fun losing a race in his life. 

*

Harry decides that since they’re already a mess they should try the pie eating contest next, but Liam’s mum doesn’t let them. 

“No,” she says, and shoos them away from the table. 

Harry tries his cheekiest grin. “But I was really looking forward to it!” He bats his eyelashes a little and Liam hopes he doesn’t think that’s actually going to _work_. “Pleeeease?”

“Absolutely not. You should have thought about that before the two of you went rolling around in the mud like a couple of farm animals.” Harry tries to pout, his bottom lip even pokes out a little, but Liam’s mum isn’t having it. Liam has to admire her will power. “No,” she says again firmly. “I’ll not have either of you and all of your dirt near me or any of my pies. Now go shower and take a trip to the shops to get your costumes for tomorrow night or something, yeah?”

Harry visibly brightens at the suggestion. “Oh! Right, I nearly forgot.” He reaches out and slips his fingers into Liam’s, and Liam startles a little, his chest going warm and fuzzy before he remembers why Harry is doing it. He’s had so much fun with Harry so far he’s been forgetting at times that they’re supposed to be pretending to be dating. “Come on, Li,” Harry says, and gives him a soft smile. It should look ridiculous seeing as how he’s more than half-covered in mud, but his face is clear and his eyes crinkle a little at the corners, and Liam just smiles back and squeezes Harry’s fingers in turn. 

*

After they get cleaned up Liam takes them both to the costume shop, and spends close to an hour watching Harry try on every wig and hat and headpiece in the store. Liam finds an area with all kinds of beach themed costumes, and is just about to decide on the captain's outfit and hat when Harry comes rushing over, cheeks pink with excitement. 

“I think we should keep it a secret.”

Liam blinks. “Keep what a secret.”

“Our costumes,” Harry says. He’s got a wide smile on his face and his fringe is flopping into his eyes a little bit, and Liam reaches out without thinking and brushes it back. His gut gives a little lurch when Harry bites his lip, and Liam shoves his hand deep into his pocket to keep from touching him again. 

“You’re—“ Liam starts, and clears his throat. He has no idea why it’s gone so rough and scratchy. “You’re not going to go dressed as a mermaid are you? Because I might have to put my foot down on the whole pretend dating thing if you’re going to dress like a lady.”

Harry bursts out laughing and kisses Liam loudly on the cheek. “No, I’m not going to go as dressed as a mermaid. Though, I mean, now that you mention it—“

“ _No_ ,” Liam repeats, and shakes his head as Harry walks off again, presumably to go find his costume. 

*

They’re changed after dinner and on their way into the games room for the karaoke competition when they’re cornered by Liam’s sisters once again. 

“Listen,” Nicola says, and plants her hands firmly on her hips. 

Liam groans. “What _now_?”

“Well, we’ve been discussing things,” she says, “Ruth and I, that is, and we’ve come up with some ground rules for you two.”

Harry chuckles and leans in against Liam’s side. His arm snakes around Liam’s waist and Liam tucks in closer without even thinking about it. “Such as?” Harry asks. 

“You can’t sing one of your songs together,” Ruth says first. Her eyes are wide and she flips her hair back over her shoulder. “We don’t think that’s fair. You’ve already made like, a billion pounds off those songs. _Obviously_ you know how to sing them well.”

“Well, I like to think we’ve made at least half a billion because of how fit I am,” Harry answers, and puffs his chest out a bit and Liam laughs. Harry is ridiculous. “But all right. Nothing we’ve ever recorded, how’s that.”

Ruth nods immediately but Nicola frowns a little. She seems not to trust Harry at all and Liam laughs a little on the inside. She’s at least right about that. 

“Hmm,” she says, and chews on her thumbnail. “All right. I’ll allow it. Nothing you’ve ever recorded.”

Harry smiles cheekily and Liam knows instantly that Harry has already picked the song they’re going to sing and is just doing this to drag his sisters along for a bit. Liam doesn’t mind. As far as he’s concerned they deserve it. 

“Next,” Ruth says, oblivious to everything else happening around her. “If you sing together it has to be just the two of you.” Liam feels his eyebrows shoot up and when he looks over even Harry looks confused. “I mean, you can’t like, call the other guys and have them sing back up over the phones or something.”

“Wow,” Harry says, sounding impressed. “I didn’t even _think_ of that.”

“They’re definitely devious, I’ll give them that,” Liam mutters.

“Agree to it!” Ruth demands, and Liam holds his hands up in the air and feels Harry do the same. 

“Fine! Yes! We agree!” Liam says. “Is there anything else or are we just not going to be allowed in the room and that’s how the rest of you lot are planning on winning.”

Ruth looks ready to hit them with another ridiculous rule, but Nicola shakes her head and waves her off. “No, fine, let them in. Liam’s not going to let anyone else bloody win anyway,” she mutters under her breath.

Liam reaches down and takes Harry’s hand, sliding their fingers together and pulling him into the room. He glances back and catches the bright smile on Harry’s face and something swirls desperate and achy in his chest but he ignores it, pushes it down and tells himself he’ll deal with it later.

Right now they’ve got a competition to win. 

*

Karaoke is, for the most part, the same as it’s been every year since Liam remembers. The room is crowded with nearly every one of Liam’s relatives all split into groups of girls against boys, older relatives against the younger. Everyone is talking and laughing and cheering each other on, but when they get up on the stage no one is anyone else’s friend. Everyone is out there to win. 

Liam tugs Harry in behind him, and he can feel Harry trip a little over his feet and laugh along with something his sisters are saying. He finds them all a table and then heads over to the bar to grab fizzy drinks and pints for everyone, and by the time he comes back Harry is fielding off the questions from his family about what they’re singing and when they’re going up and so on. 

“Wow,” Harry says when Liam places a pint in front of him and straddles the seat. “Your family is kind of crazy about this, huh?”

Liam shrugs. “We all like to compete,” he says in turn. 

Harry moves so he’s facing Liam and puts his hand high up on Liam’s thigh. Liam tries not to notice the pink flush of Harry’s throat where his dark shirt dips down at the collar. He’s wearing grey trousers and a black blazer over it and he looks…Liam shakes his head. He looks amazing, actually, with his hair and face and everything all right there in front of Liam. 

“So, erm, you picked a song for us?” Liam says. He looks away and watches as his sisters and a few of his girl cousins get up and start singing the Spice Girls. 

“I did,” Harry says. He’s nodding and grinning but not actually answering. Liam is feeling slightly worried. “It’s a secret,” Harry tells him and Liam huffs. 

“You can’t keep the secret from me,” he says. Harry stares at him blankly, so Liam adds, “Because I have to know if I can _sing_ it with you?”

“Oh, you can sing it.” Harry waves him off and turns to his pint. “Don’t worry about that. I already spoke to the DJ and he has it and we’re going last so…have a drink or something.” He reaches out and smacks Liam’s face and Liam half-heartedly tries to bat him away. 

The rest of the songs are fairly typical and Liam’s not that worried when he and Harry take the stage. His mum and dad do a Beatles song and his little cousins actually sing One Thing which is very cute, but Liam is confident. He’s sure Harry picked something cheeky and funny and really, he’s just happy to have Harry with him to sing with tonight. Liam doesn’t care much what song Harry chose. 

It’s strange being on a tiny stage in front of nobody but his closest relatives. By this point Liam’s literally sung in front of millions of people, thousands at a time, but being able to look out and see faces; to actually be able to pick his mum and sisters and nan out in the crowd makes something flutter crazily in his stomach. He must make a face because the next thing he knows Harry is taking his hand and leading Liam to a stool on the stage, his own set up right next to it.

“Hey everybody,” Harry says into the microphone. Liam hears a bunch of greetings shouted back at them, and then Harry is flipping his fringe and chewing on his bottom lip and Liam thinks, _Oh, he’s nervous_. He slides his hand onto Harry’s thigh and Harry startles at bit at the touch, but then he catches Liam’s eye and smiles and his fingers tighten around Liam’s hand. 

“I picked this song out for Liam, but I haven’t told him what it is yet,” Harry says. Liam can hear everyone laugh, but for some reason Harry is still holding tightly to his hand and his voice cracks a little like Liam hasn’t heard in years. “Anyway, we’ve sung it a few times as a band for fun and I know Liam likes it so, I don’t know, I thought it would be good for tonight.” Harry looks over and nods at the DJ and the music starts. 

Liam hears the guitar first, the simple open strumming, and then Harry’s voice singing: _Well you done done me and you bet I felt it, I tried to be chill but you're so hot that I melted_ \- and Liam’s heart nearly stops in his chest. 

It’s Harry singing like he’s done a million times before and it’s a song that Liam’s sung, that they’ve sung together and it shouldn’t mean anything – it mostly likely _doesn’t_ mean anything – but Liam can’t stop watching Harry; his mouth and eyes and throat and everything that makes him beyond amazing when he’s onstage. For the first time, though, Liam feels like it’s something being sung for him - _just_ for him - and the idea of that nearly takes him out at the knees. 

He watches Harry for so long it’s nearly the chorus before Liam realizes he’s supposed to be singing _with_ Harry and he joins in, his own voice cracking a little before he clears his throat. Harry finally looks over and Liam watches him and they smile and fall into the same easy harmony they’ve been singing in for years. It feels different tonight, though, the way Harry won’t let go of his hand, the way he won’t look away from Liam as he sings the words that never meant as much to Liam as they do right now.

The song ends and everyone is standing up and cheering. Liam slides off his stool and pulls Harry to stand in front of him and when he wraps his arms around Harry he means it. He doesn’t care why Harry said he’d come with Liam this weekend or what it is that they’re supposed to be doing, right now he just wants his arms full of Harry so that’s just what he does.

*

The trophy is huge. Liam remembers them always being big but this one seems brighter, maybe. It takes up nearly half of the dressing table when they get back from the room and Harry can’t stop laughing and touching it like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen. Like they haven’t actually won a Brit award for heaven’s sake. 

“So cool,” Harry says for what might be the millionth time since they got on the lift. “We _won_ ,” he says again. “That’s _so cool_.”

“We were definitely a force to be reckoned with,” Liam says. He’s standing awkwardly at his side of the bed, but hesitates before he starts undressing because…well, he’s not really sure why. Harry is having no such hesitation. His blazer and shirt are already flung onto the floor and he’s sat on the edge of the bed kicking off his trainers and shimmying out of his trousers. 

Liam feels his face flush hot then cold. He knows he should look away but he can’t seem to make himself stop staring at the long line of Harry’s back, or the way the dim lights of the room make his skin look so pale and smooth. Liam’s fingers itch with the need to touch, and he curls them into fists and shoves them deep in his pockets. He can’t help but wonder how soft Harry’s skin would be under his mouth. If he kissed Harry right there, right along the perfect curve between his neck and shoulder blade what he would taste like. 

Then Harry turns and looks at him, and winks, and Liam nearly leaps back and away from the bed because oh my god, since when does he think about _kissing Harry’s neck_?

“You all right, Li?” Harry asks, and damn him, he’s smiling cheekily and stretching out on the bed. The covers are bunched up under his back and he’s got nearly every pillow stuffed under his head and Liam wants to touch him and kiss him and the thought makes him want to go hang himself in the bathroom because, really, this is _Harry_. This is Harry and this isn’t real and Liam needs to remember that. 

“Fine!” Liam says, forcing himself to sound chipper. He looks away and trips over Harry’s trousers as he flees to the bathroom. “Never better,” he calls out as he bolts and locks the door. “Just having a quick shower! Don’t wait up!”

He hears Harry laughing through the door, but then Liam starts pounding his head against it and he doesn’t hear much of anything at all anymore. 

*

Liam wakes up early the next morning and tapes a note to Harry’s forehead telling him he’s gone for a run. There’s no one around when he slips through the halls and out into the murky morning air, and Liam runs as hard as he can, pounding the streets around the hotel, trying to keep the thoughts swirling around in his brain away for at least a little bit. 

He’s just…confused. Liam likes Harry. He loves him, even. Harry’s one of his best mates and his bandmate and very nearly his brother and Liam would never do anything to ruin that. And Liam is so grateful to Harry; the way he came home with Liam and thought up this ridiculous scheme to keep Liam from being sad and how he’s been by Liam’s side nearly the entire time. Liam’s glad for it – of course he is – he’d loved Danielle but he realizes now they were never meant to be together forever, and the idea of having to explain that over and over again this past weekend tires Liam to the bones and it never even happened because of Harry. 

But that doesn’t explain why Liam wanted to touch Harry last night. Why he wanted to _kiss_ him. 

“Argh,” Liam grunts as he rounds the corner and sees the hotel up ahead. It’s much later now and Liam knows everyone must be up. He needs to get some juice and tea and find Harry so they can relax a bit before the fancy dress party tonight. He doesn’t feel like he got much good thinking done, but he did get out and got some fresh air and that will have to do. 

Naturally, when he walks into the hotel the first person he sees getting breakfast is his mum. 

“Liam,” she says, and pulls out the chair next to her. Her smile is slightly sly and knowing, and when she pats the seat of the chair and says, “Come sit with me?” Liam knows it’s not actually a question. 

He nods and drops down into the seat, leaning over to kiss her cheek lightly. “Morning, mum.”

“You have a nice run, dear?” she asks. 

Liam steals her juice and takes a sip. “Mmm hmm,” he mumbles, then glances around the room to see if there’s anyone who might come to his rescue before the inevitable interrogation starts. He spots Harry after a moment and almost stands up instinctively before his mum’s hand on his arm stops him. 

“Leave him be,” she says, and nods to where Harry is sitting with a few of Liam’s younger cousins. “They’re having the time of their life with him over there. It’s not every reunion they get to spend time with someone in a famous boy band, you know.”

“Hey!” Liam protests. “I’ve been here every year since I was born!”

“Oh, Liam,” his mother tuts with a sigh. “You know you don’t count like that.”

Liam wants to be offended but part of him has to admit she’s right. Liam is just Liam but Harry is _Harry_. He’s _Harry Styles_ of One Direction and right now he’s got the smallest of Liam’s cousins curled up in his lap and looks to be whispering something in her ear, as a few of the older ones stand behind him and braid and ribbon his hair. 

Something flips over in Liam’s stomach; he feels heat rise in his cheeks and his throat is suddenly achingly tight. Harry chooses that second to turn around and spot him watching, and he flashes Liam a brilliant smile, his entire face lighting up with it. Liam has to resist the urge to bang his head repeatedly against the table. 

“He’s a nice lad,” his mum says, quietly. Liam grunts but says nothing. “He makes you happy.”

Liam continues watching Harry; the way he’s playing with Liam’s cousins, his easy smile and the crinkle around his eyes. He’s got a bright laugh and a good heart and he makes Liam happy by doing almost nothing at all. 

“He does,” Liam says, and it feels bigger than it should. Like he’s admitting something out loud that he’s known in his head all along. “He really does.”

Harry turns and smiles at him again, and this time Liam manages to smile right back.

*

Harry insists on getting ready for the party in the bathroom while Liam gets ready in the main part of the bedroom. “It’s supposed to be a surprise!” Harry hisses as he grabs his bag and locks himself behind the door. 

Liam shrugs. “I’ll be seeing you as soon as you’re done anyway, Harry,” he calls, but Harry ignores him and Liam sighs. He pulls his costume from his own bag and gets dressed.

He has to admit, the captain costume was a good choice. It’s mostly black with gold braid and a captain’s hat for him to wear when they head into the party but other than that it’s basically normal clothes, nothing too crazy or uncomfortable. He remembers the year the theme was _In the Countryside_ and his cousin James convinced Liam to go as the back half of a horse with him which, well, that wasn’t one of James’ better ideas to be honest. 

There sounds to be a bit of banging going on from Harry’s side of the door, and Liam taps cautiously and leans his head against it. “Everything all right in there?”

“Perfect,” Harry says. “Cheers.” And then the door is opening and Liam takes a step back because Harry – well, Harry—

“You’re a pirate,” Liam says dumbly. Harry grins, his face beaming under the red bandanna tied around his head and nods. 

“Yep.” He gives a little spin, the purple and gold scarves he’s got tied around his neck and waist fluttering out to the sides. His trousers are tight and black and his shirt is opened to the middle of his chest. He’s got one eye covered in an eye patch and a fake parrot sitting on his shoulder. He should look ridiculous, really. It’s completely unfair that Harry’s insane costume is making it hard for Liam to breathe properly. 

It’s just – “Your _trousers_ , Harry. Can you _sit_?”

Harry laughs and shrugs. “I haven’t tried yet. I’ll let you know after we get downstairs.” He smirks a little and grabs the hat Liam is holding loosely in his fingers. He slides it on Liam’s head, his fingers brushing the hair back from his forehead and smiles softly. “Captain of the ship, yeah?” he says quietly. “I should have figured.”

Liam swallows hard past the lump in his throat. He needs to speak to Harry about this before it gets any worse. The trouble is, even if he did try and speak to Harry he’s got no idea what he would say. _I have no idea why I suddenly wants to kiss you_ sounds all kinds of terrible, but _I’m not sure this pretending that you’re my boyfriend idea was such a good idea after all_ isn’t much better. Especially since after tonight there won’t be any pretending anyway. They’re on their way back by midday tomorrow and this will all be over anyway. 

Liam wonders when that changed from being something that he was looking forward to, to something that he’s dreading. 

“You all right, Li?” Harry asks, and Liam shakes his head. He’s being ridiculous. 

“Perfectly good, yes,” he says. Harry doesn’t look like he believes him but he doesn’t push it any, and when Liam takes Harry’s hand and leads him from the room Harry just grins and follows. 

*

The party is in full swing by the time they get downstairs, and it takes them another twenty minutes to make their way through the throng of Liam’s relatives all dressed as their best mermaids and sunbathers and lifeguards. Liam pulls Harry through the crowd and grabs them each a drink at the bar where they’re stood watching everyone dancing and laughing around them. 

“Come on, let’s dance,” Harry shouts against Liam’s ear and Liam shakes his head. 

“Harry, we’re terrible dancers.”

“So?” Harry shrugs then starts flapping his arms around in the air and shaking his hips. “Besides, I think we’re amazing.”

“You would,” Liam mumbles, but he allows himself to be pulled out into the middle of the floor, laughing along and copying whatever silly move Harry does next. They’ve got a few rounds of the sprinkler under their belt and have moved onto Louis’ screw the lightbulb dance when the tempo shifts and drops into something slow and romantic. People start to clear out almost immediately, leaving only the couples swaying in time to the music, and Liam turns to go when he feels Harry’s hand against his sleeve. 

“Hey,” Harry says. His cheeks are flushed from dancing and he’s biting his bottom lip. “Stay and dance?”

Liam shakes his head a little. “It’s a slow one, though, and—“

“Come on, Li,” Harry wheedles. “Just one. You are my boyfriend tonight, right?”

Liam takes a deep breath. “Right,” he says, and steels himself against every emotion rising up his chest. “That I am.”

Harry laughs quietly and slides his arm around Liam’s waist, pulling him closer. Liam’s not sure what the song even is that’s playing; he can barely hear anything over the pounding of his own heartbeat and he wonders if Harry can feel it, if it’s thudding against his chest as hard as he thinks it is. 

This kind of dancing Liam can do. It’s mostly just shifting and swaying, and he pulls Harry closer without even realizing it. Harry’s curls tickle Liam’s cheek and nose and he closes his eyes for a moment, tucking his face into the curve of Harry’s neck. 

“Liam.” Harry’s voice is rough. He sounds like he does after a night of singing on stage, or the morning after a long night out. Liam leans back to look into Harry’s face, and Harry’s staring at him, watching Liam almost as if he’s waiting for something. Liam reaches up and slides the phony patch off Harry’s eye, and then he’s touching Harry’s cheek, trailing his fingers over the curve of his jaw, down his throat, and before Liam can stop to think about what he’s doing he leans over and kisses him. 

Harry sighs against Liam’s mouth, and his arms tighten, pulling Liam in. Liam can’t stop touching Harry’s face, slipping his fingers into the back of Harry’s hair and tilting his head so he can kiss Harry better. He bites Harry’s bottom lip and Harry gasps, his fingers twisting in the back of Liam’s jacket and it’s then that Liam realizes what’s happened, realizes what he’s _doing_ , and he drops his hands and pushes away from Harry in one abrupt motion. 

“Oh, god,” Liam gasps. His mouth feels tingly and bruised. “Harry, I’m so sorry, I’m—“

Liam shakes his head and tries to turn and…do something, he’s not sure what. He’s not going to run away like a besotted virgin in a terrible romance film, but he’s not…he can’t just _stand_ here either. 

His face feels burning hot, all the way to the tips of his ears and down his neck and chest. He’s half expecting Harry to slap his cheek or hit him in the crotch; anything that’s semi-normal for the two of them. So when Harry grabs his hand and yanks him in, when he mutters, “My god, you really are _thick_ ,” against Liam’s mouth before he kisses him again Liam is more than a little confused. 

“What?” He ineffectively pushes at Harry’s chest, but when it seems like Harry’s not going to stop – and honestly, _why is Harry not stopping_? – Liam takes Harry’s hand and yanks him out of the room and down the hall so they can have some privacy. 

Harry grins and yanks Liam into a secluded corner before he starts kissing Liam’s cheek. He’s biting at Liam’s jaw and his hands are sliding under Liam’s waistcoat and trying to yank his shirt from his trousers and Liam can’t think straight, he can’t function and he has to ask, “Wait a second, Harry, what’s—“

“ _Liam!_ ” Harry finally stops touching him long enough to throw his hands in the air. He looks frustrated and confused. Liam can sympathize. “Do you honestly not know what’s going on here?”

“Well, I. I mean, I think I do—“ Liam stammers. It’s entirely possible that Harry is correct; Liam’s fairly certain he has no idea what’s going on right now. “I mean, we’re at a dance—“

“Yes,” Harry says slowly. 

“And we were dancing.”

Harry’s lips quirk in a grin. “As one does at a dance, correct.”

“And then I, well, _you_.” Liam stops because he is genuinely confused. “Harry, I kissed you and I’m sorry for it. I didn’t mean to—“

“Did you really not?” Harry asks, and for the first time Liam realizes that Harry looks nervous almost. “Because, if you didn’t…” he trails off. “I mean, I guess if you didn’t that’s all right, but—“

Liam is almost afraid to hope. He reaches out and takes Harry’s hand, but this time when his heart trips and bumps from the feeling of Harry’s fingers around his, instead of panicking, Liam lets it. He lets himself wish and hope and thinks, _maybe_.

“I did,” Liam says, his voice clear and steady. “I do. Mean it, that is.” Harry grins at him, wide and beautiful, and Liam feels himself smile back. “Did you?”

“Liam, I’ve been throwing myself at you for _years_ ,” Harry says. His cheeks are pink and Liam wants to touch him, so he does. It’s honestly the best thing ever. “Why do you think I did all this?” Harry asks. “Coming here with you, pretending we were _boyfriends_ for pete’s sake.”

“Erm…” Liam laughs at himself a little. He ducks his head and wrinkles his forehead as he looks up at Harry. “Because we’re mates?”

“Well, yeah,” Harry says, huffing out a breath. “But I’m mates with Zayn too and you don’t see me hanging around _his_ family and trying to snog _him_ in corners, do you?”

“No, I suppose not.” Liam breathes deep and steps in closer, pulling Harry so their bodies line up, Harry’s thigh sliding against Liam’s. He bites his lip and tries to keep his eyes from rolling back in his head as Harry laughs darkly, dragging his teeth along the side of Liam’s neck. “You want to snog me in corners?” Liam asks. He shivers when Harry laughs against his skin.

“Amongst other things,” Harry says and Liam is one hundred percent okay with that. One thousand percent, actually. 

Liam groans low in his throat and tugs at the scarf tied around Harry’s neck. He uses it to pull Harry’s head back, and then uses his teeth and bites down gently on the shell of Harry’s ear. Harry clutches as his waist and back, holding their bodies tight together, and then he’s shoving Liam away, his chest heaving as if he’s just got done running a race. 

“Christ, Liam, are you trying to kill me?” Harry asks. He doesn’t wait for an answer, just grabs Liam’s hand and tugs him down the hall toward the lifts. 

“Harry, where are we _going_?” he asks breathlessly. 

“To our room before I break rule number two,” Harry grits out. Liam must looks confused because Harry stops and kisses him hard on the mouth before continuing. “Rule number two: I’m not allowed to touch you below the waist when you’re mum’s around and she’s down the hall right now, so we’re leaving.”

Liam bursts out laughing. “Harry, you remembered my rules!” he exclaims. “I might be able to work on you yet!”

“Come back to the room with me and I’ll let you work on me all you want,” Harry says cheekily, and Liam grabs Harry’s face and pulls him down, kissing him hard. 

“It’s a deal,” Liam says, and follows Harry back down the hall.

 

-END-


End file.
